


Snapshots of Us

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Temporary Amnesia, but everything works out, data loses his memories, ish?, tasha is bad at emotion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25867036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: The first words out of Geordi’s mouth were a frantic, “It’s alright, I can fix it!”Or;Data loses his memories. Tasha is more bothered by it than she should be.
Relationships: Data/Tasha Yar
Series: Star Trek Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1875274
Kudos: 18
Collections: Star Trek Bingo Summer 2020





	Snapshots of Us

**Author's Note:**

> For the bingo prompt "amnesia/forgotten memories." I'm not...entirely happy with it, but it is what it is. Teen rating for some mild sexuality.

The first words out of Geordi’s mouth were a frantic, “It’s alright, I can fix it!”

Riker stared, and he wasn’t the only one. “ _What happened?”_

“Some kind of power surge overloaded his neural net.” Even as he spoke, Geordi was already working, his fingers flying over the computer terminal, the buttons beeping back at him in response. “It’s alright, it’s not a complete memory wipe. Everything’s still there, the connections to access memory files are just severed. It’s going to take some time to work out how to reconnect them safely.”

“But you can do it, right?” Tasha asked. Her throat squeezed, and she forced herself to swallow through it. “I mean…”

“It’ll take time,” Geordi reiterated. “The programming is complex. But it is doable.”

“Do what you can, Mr. LaForge,” Picard instructed. “Number One, I need you with me on the bridge. Let’s see if we can’t work out the source of the overload from there.”

“Aye, sir.”

Tasha stayed where she was, arms tight across her chest. “He’s going to be okay, right?”

Geordi paused. He offered Tasha a reassuring smile. “He’s fine, Tasha. I’ll have him fixed up in the next day or so. Sooner, with any luck. You don’t have to worry.”

“Good,” she said, nodded. “Okay.” Somehow, the words didn’t make her feel any less nervous. She stared at Data, who was watching the exchange with bright eyes, his head cocked, a tiny smile on his lips, like he was fascinated by the whole thing. Tasha gave him a smile she didn’t really feel, reaching out and squeezing his arm. “You hear that? You’re going to be fine.”

Data raised his eyebrows, glancing down at the touch and back up to her. “Your chief engineer has stated so several times. I have no reason to doubt the veracity of that statement.”

Tasha faltered. “Right.” Her smile slipped, and she swallowed hard again. “I…need to be on duty.”

She turned, stalking to the turbolift, her chest tight. Behind her, she heard Data ask, “Commander…who is that woman?”

Tasha couldn’t stop fidgeting at her station. She drummed her fingers against the terminal, hard enough that Worf shot her a questioning look. She could hear Riker conferring softly with a science officer behind her, but she didn’t look back or try to make out what they were saying. Her whole body felt tense, like a live wire, but she might as well have her head underwater for all the focus she had. It was hard not to be preoccupied. She’d been so nervous when Data had shut down, his body jerking, eyes going lifeless as the power had crackled through him, collapsing in a heap on the floor in front of the science station. She always got nervous when he went dead like that, no matter how many times he woke up again. And to see him open his eyes, only to stare blankly at her, asking where he was and who they all were, had only dashed cold water over any relief Tasha had felt.

Geordi reported back to them towards the tail end of the shift. They’d been lucky. Only access to the memory files had been affected, while everything else – language, personality programming, etc. – was fully functional and accessible for Data. “He’s fundamentally the same person,” Geordi explained. “All the behaviors and things are hardwired into him. He just can’t associate it with any particular memory that developed the behavior. Hell, he could probably run his work on the bridge without much of an impact.”

“Perhaps,” Picard allowed, folding his hands on the briefing room table. “All things considered, I still think it would be best if we relieved Mr. Data of duty, just for the time being. Do you have an estimation of how long the repairs will take?”

“It’ll take me about twelve hours to set up a program in the ship’s computer. Once I’ve done that, I can reconnect Data, and transfer it to him from there. It’ll work to repair the severed links a lot faster than if I tried to reconnect every one by hand. Should only take another couple hours after that.”

“Very good, Mr. LaForge.” Picard nodded in approval. “In the meantime, Lieutenant Davies has a team working on correcting the computer malfunction. It wouldn’t do to attempt to fix Commander Data if we run the risk of exacerbating the situation.”

There were practical questions that needed answers, and Tasha cleared her throat quietly. “Sir? Will Commander Data need to be shut down for these repairs, or will he be active?”

Picard glanced towards Geordi, who laced his fingers together, sitting forward in his chair. “Data will need to be out for the procedure – it would overwhelm his positronic net otherwise – but until we’re ready to install it, there’s no real reason he can’t be up and about.”

“Do you think he’s a security risk, Lieutenant?” Picard asked her.

Tasha hesitated, forcing herself to think professionally. “Unlikely. If Data’s personality is unchanged, he won’t be at risk of harming anyone on board. It would violate his coding. But it might be best if someone were assigned to watch him. Just in case.”

“Agreed.” Picard gave a short nod. “I leave that task to you, Tasha. I believe you are best suited for it.”

His phrasing was professional, but she fought not to blush anyway. It still felt strange, sometimes, knowing that their friends knew she and Data were together. “Of course, sir. Thank you.”

“Very good. You’re dismissed.”

“Come on,” Geordi told Tasha as they strode from the briefing room. “I’ll take you to him. You can bring him back to his quarters while I work.” He laughed a little. “Knowing Data, his curiosity would have him over my shoulder the whole time otherwise, and the sooner we can get him back to normal, the better.”

Tasha couldn’t agree more.

Data was still in Engineering, where he’d been left, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he examined the consoles, oblivious to the ensigns who were shooting him nervous looks as he hovered over their shoulders. Tasha suspected a ‘no touching’ order had been given for him not to be handling the computer. He glanced up when they approached, and smiled genially at them. “Hello again, Commander LaForge. Lieutenant Yar.”

“Hey, Data.” Geordi gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder, guiding him towards Tasha. “I’ve got a lot of work to do here. Tasha is going to take you to your quarters, okay?”

Data nodded once, still smiling. It was cute, if a little empty, Tasha thought. She held out her hands. “Come with me.”

Data hesitated, then took them, his grip light in hers, impersonal. He glanced back at Geordi. “If you require any assistance, I believe you know where to find me?”

“Of course,” Geordi told him. “I’ll let you know.”

“Apparently,” Data told Tasha as they left Main Engineering, heading for the turbolift, “I am a skilled cyberneticist.”

“You’re a lot of things,” Tasha agreed. “And you’re pretty great at all of them.” She dropped his hands and stared straight ahead as the turbolift doors closed behind them, fighting the urge to look as she felt Data’s gaze fall on her and camp there.

“My presence is distressing you.”

She lied. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Data cocked his head, his tone clinical, curious. “Is it because I am an android?”

Tasha blinked, unable to stop herself from swiveling to look at him. “What?”

“Commander LaForge informed me that I am not an organic life form. It seems fairly logical that humans would react to that knowledge with discomfort. An android would have advanced abilities which may make humans uneasy. Given that you are a security officer, part of your job would be to monitor my threat level, would it not?”

The statement was so matter of fact and so _wrong_ that Tasha had to laugh. It made Data’s eyes widen, his brow furrowing with confusion. “I do not understand. Have I said something humorous?”

Tasha took a deep breath, forcing herself to get the laughter under control. “Data-“ she began, and then cut herself off as the turbolift doors opened. She jerked her head towards the corridor. “This way.”

Data followed her down the hall, glancing around with interest, nearly running into Tasha when she stopped at his doors, tilting his head as she entered the code. She watched him survey his quarters, examining the chalk art on the walls, running his fingers over the deerstalker hanging on the coatrack and the violin resting neatly on its shelf. “Curious,” he said quietly. He looked back to her. “Would I be correct in assuming I have the knowledge to play this?”

“Well, yeah.” Tasha folded her hands behind her back, fidgeting with them. “As far as I know, you can play pretty much any instrument. I’ve seen you practice at least three that I can remember. But you like the violin the best.”

“Interesting.” He wandered over to the paintings, a stack of them leaning against the wall, half-finished. He picked one up, tilting it towards the light. “I paint as well?”

“You sound surprised.”

Data tipped his head. “I am an android. It would seem impractical for me to engage in creative behavior. I do not see how I would have much success.”

“You’re better at it than you like to give yourself credit for.” She hesitated. “Data…in the turbolift. I’m not…I wasn’t uncomfortable because you’re an android and I’m a security officer.”

He set the painting down, turning to face her. “Then why?”

“You have…so many friends here...”

She cut off again as Spot poked her head out from the other room, a rumble building up in the cat’s throat as she danced out to meet Data, winding her way around his legs. Data stared down at her, his eyes wide, and then stooped to pick her up. Spot purred loudly as she settled in his arms. He looked back to Tasha, eyebrows raised. “You were saying?”

She swallowed hard. Was this what he had looked like when Starfleet had first found him? Polite and curious, but dispassionate. Nothing around him familiar. Nothing but the knowledge in his databanks. “You have so many people who care about you, Data,” she told him. Her voice caught, but she pressed on. “You…you don’t just _know_ things, you _do_ them. You like to paint, and play the violin, and act, and read detective novels, and spend time with your friends, with people who love you. You have a _cat._ And maybe some of us were uncomfortable once, but we’re not anymore. You’re…Data, you mean so much to us. And it’s just hard. Seeing you like this.”

“Without my memories.”

She nodded. Data set Spot down, and took a seat on the sofa, indicating that Tasha should do the same. That, at least, loosened something in her chest; it was a behavior Data had learned over her time knowing him, a social nicety he’d learned to incorporate. It was a sign that this wasn’t a totally clean slate for him. She took a seat beside him, tucking her legs up, cross-legged, on the sofa, wrapping her hands tight around her ankles. Data hesitated, and then said, “I apologize for any distress I have caused you. It did not occur to me that I might have…friends. I do not have emotional programming, nor any knowledge of any of you outside what I have stored of your Starfleet profiles. I did not think I might be regarded with anything resembling the care I have been shown by Lieutenant Commander LaForge, and by you.” He looked down, where Spot was still rubbing herself up against him. He reached down and scratched her behind the ears. “It is easy to recall my technical knowledge. I am skilled in many areas, programmed to know many things. I am…aware that I care about certain things, but I cannot identify their significance. It is disconcerting.”

Tasha reached out and squeezed his thigh. “It’s okay,” she told him. “Geordi’s going to fix it, and then you’ll remember.”

“Commander LaForge… _Geordi_ , he is significant to me, correct?”

“He’s your best friend.”

“And we are close as well?”

Tasha opened her mouth, and then closed it again. “Yeah,” she said at length. “Yeah, we’re close.”

“This appears to distress you more.”

She hesitated. Data didn’t remember her. Was it selfish to say something? But Tasha couldn’t help it. Softly, she said, “We aren’t…just friends, Data.”

He frowned. “Could you elaborate?”

“We’re involved. Romantically.” She gestured to the walls vaguely, the lines of chalk. “That’s from me. It’s a thing from my homeworld. A sort of…’this is our home’ kind of gesture. My quarters are the same way.” She stared at the floor, her throat tight. “When we got together, people didn’t really know what to think. And you warned me that it might not…might not be easy. I knew that, and it wasn’t like I was a picnic myself, but…” She sighed. “We _fit_. I don’t know how else to explain it, but we just do. We make it work.”

“I see.” Data was very quiet. He didn’t look at her, clearly turning that information over in his mind. He lifted his head, and tentatively prompted, “And this relationship is…satisfying, for you? In spite of my lack of emotions?”

It was almost absurd, the laugh that bubbled up from deep inside her out of nowhere, and Data stared at her as she wrapped her arms around her stomach, fighting back the giggles. God, what was wrong with her? This situation wasn’t funny. She bit her lip, still grinning, her voice hitching with mirth. “I can’t believe we’re really having this conversation again.”

His eyebrows rose as he questioned, “Again?”

She nodded. “Data, you’ve asked me this before. A lot. You…baby, you _feel_. I’ve seen it, and maybe it’s not the way most people do, but there’s _something_ , and it’s beautiful. But you’ve always been so unsure about it, so certain you _couldn’t_ feel anything. You’ve never seemed to get that I love being with you. And part of it is because I know you love me too. In your own way.” She took his hand into her lap, rubbing her thumbs over the back of it, needing the grounding connection. “So yes. Our relationship satisfies me. And I think it satisfies you too.”

Data opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He seemed at a loss, and a heavy weight wrapped itself around Tasha’s throat, sinking deep into her gut. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered. “This…I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too much.”

“Tasha…”

Her breath caught at the way he said her name, like he was testing it for the first time, letting it roll over his tongue, getting a feel for its weight. His fingers twitched under hers, as if to reach out, and he curled them into a fist, withdrawing the hand from hers and setting it deliberately against his thigh. “Do I…” He stopped, and started again. “Do I tell you that you are beautiful?”

Tasha smiled, a softer laugh huffing from her lips. “Yeah,” she said. “You tell me that a lot.”

“That is good.” He stared down at his hands, flexing against his thighs. “Do I paint you?”

“…sometimes,” she told him. “I don’t…always feel comfortable with it. But I have let you, once or twice.”

“Do I compose songs for you?”

Tasha smiled. “Songs. Poetry. All sorts of things. Not that you’ve told me about it.”

He frowned. “If I have not told you about it-“

“How do I know?” Tasha’s grin broadened. “You’re not as good at hiding things as you’d like to think, baby. I think you’re nervous about what I’ll say if you show it to me.”

“Because I do not have faith in its quality.”

“Exactly.” Tasha wrapped her arms around Data’s, resting her chin against his shoulder. “You always say your work doesn’t have enough heart in it. Doesn’t have enough soul.”

“But you clearly disagree.”

“I do,” Tasha said. She nuzzled her cheek against him. “You can copy styles, sure, but I’ve seen you blend them together in ways no one ever would have thought of. And the things you’re writing about…you had to come up with them. You had to decide what you wanted to paint. It’s not an intellectual decision, because when I ask you don’t have a logical reason. You just…want to do it. What is that if not heart?”

“You make a compelling point. There must be something wrong with my processing systems if I continue to disagree with you.”

Tasha hid her laugh in Data’s sleeve, pressing her forehead against him. “When this is all over, I’m going to remind you about that. Maybe you’ll start to listen to me.”

“And…” Data hesitated. “Tasha…if Geordi cannot repair my memory functions, what will happen to me?”

Tasha sat up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“According to you, and to my files, I am a Starfleet officer. However, have no memory of my training. Much of the technical knowledge is there, but I have to assume there are gaps in my education as of this point. If my memory does not return, assuming I am not dismantled to determine the error-“

“No one is going to dismantle you!” Tasha interjected sharply.

Data continued as if she had not interrupted, “Then it seems likely that I will be required to leave the _Enterprise_ , as I will be unable to perform my duties as an officer.”

“So you’ll go back to the Academy,” Tasha said. She wondered if he could calculate the change in the pressure of her hands on him, clutching him, wondered how accurately his sensors could define it. “You’ll spend a couple years brushing up and then-“

“Then there will no longer be a posting for me on this ship,” Data said gently. “My file says that I am the second officer, the chief of operations, and the chief science officer. Those positions cannot afford to be left unfilled in the time it will take me to correct my education.” He paused. “And…I would posit that it is very easy, to lose touch, when people are stationed so far apart.”

The weight of the words added to the lead in Tasha’s stomach. “It doesn’t matter,” she said, and the words shook more than she’d like. “It doesn’t matter because it’s not going to happen. Geordi _is_ going to fix you, and everything will be fine. You’ll see.”

“How can you be certain?”

“Because he’s your best friend, and he’s the best engineer I’ve ever seen,” Tasha said firmly. “He’s not going to give up on you. None of us are.”

Data looked down, and so did she. At some point during her speech, she’d reached out, seizing his hand, nearly crushing it in her grip. She released it abruptly, and blinked when Data took it again, lacing their fingers together. Very quietly, he said, “Thank you.”

“For…for what?”

“For having the confidence in me that you do. It is…not what I expected.”

Tasha managed a small smile. “I’m starting to get that.” It was funny. She’d heard Picard talk about Data when he first met him, a few years before bringing him aboard _Enterprise_. The captain talked about how different Data had been; still curious, still intelligent, but more…introverted. He hadn’t engaged with his crew outside of necessary functions, hadn’t seemed interested in pursuing his own hobbies. He didn’t have friendships. He didn’t seem to notice, or if he noticed he didn’t seem to mind, that the people around him were polite but dismissive at best, actively cruel at the worst. To hear him talk now, Tasha wondered if something about that had been hardwired in; the knowledge that there would be many people who did not accept Data, did not support him, for exactly who he was. And that was a shame.

Data’s thumb stroked over the back of her hand, as if on an impulse. Maybe it was, one of his subroutines kicking into life. A habit. She smiled at the thought. When he spoke again, the words were chosen with apparent care. “You said our relationship is romantic in nature.”

“It is.”

“Is it purely romantic?”

Tasha fought the urge to smirk. “It’s a lot of things,” she told him. “We were friends and coworkers first. You’ve always said that every interpersonal relationship is a unique combination of different dynamics. And we’ve got more than a few dynamics to work with.”

“A practical assessment,” Data allowed. “But…” He swallowed, and Tasha’s grin widened as she watched his throat bob at the motion, gorgeously human.

She leaned forward, bracing her hands on his thighs, letting him feel the weight of her resting there and watching his eyes widen as she purred, “You mean, do we utilize your _extensive_ sexuality programming?”

His breath caught, halting in its tracks, and he lifted a hand, the backs on his knuckles brushing ever so lightly against her cheek. Tasha sat back, taking it, and pressing a kiss to the palm before she released it. “We do,” she told him. “Frequently and creatively.”

“Then I do have sexual desires.”

“You tell me.” Tasha tilted her head. “You’ve always said you were into it, but…I do wonder, sometimes. If you’re just doing it for me.”

Data considered. He looked down at where Tasha’s thigh still pressed into his. “I do not believe I am sexually attracted to you.”

“Mmhm.”

He seemed surprised at her response. Tasha wondered if he had expected outrage. He hesitated, “This does not bother you?”

She shrugged. “You’ve told me before that you don’t really experience sexual attraction. At least, not the way humans do. You don’t have coding for it.”

He nodded, maybe in understanding or simply in agreement. “Your tone and proximity earlier did activate aspects of my sexuality programming. It was not unwelcome.”

“Good.” Tasha smiled. “I’m glad.”

“I believe I would derive great enjoyment from sexual acts. I suspect that, given that we have a sexual relationship, the physical and emotional intimacy is appealing to me.”

“Nice to have confirmation,” Tasha teased. She laughed, startled, as Data cupped her cheek, drawing her towards him. She stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Baby, no. Absolutely not.”

“You just indicated-“

She smoothed her hands down the front of his shirt. “We’re not having sex while your memory is messed up. It’s not happening.”

“I am fully capable of giving consent.”

“Sure,” Tasha said easily, “but it’s still not happening.” She tapped her palms against him lightly. “Data, I’m not comfortable with the idea of sleeping with you when you’re like this, okay? You know _nothing_ about yourself, and I know so much. It wouldn’t be fair.”

It was cute that he looked actively disappointed. “If you are certain.”

She cupped his cheek, tilting his head back a little to look up at her. “Baby, as soon as you get your memory back, we can do whatever you want. But until then, this stays PG, okay?”

He cocked his head, brow furrowing, eyes unfocusing as he accessed the data. “PG. As in parent guidance recommended. From an ancient Earth method of categorizing media based on the content included.”

“Exactly.” Tasha leaned down, pressing a short, sweet kiss to his lips. They parted, Data inhaling softly at the pressure, and it was only her hand on his chest that kept him from chasing after when she broke it. “Which means that’s all you get.”

“I believe this is what my programming would refer to as ‘being a tease,’” Data informed her, but there was no ire in his voice. He was still smiling, evidently pleased. Tasha laughed.

“Trust me, baby,” she told him. “You have no idea.” She stood up, stretching her legs a little bit. “Geordi thinks we’ve got a few hours before he can get you sorted. Is there anything you want to do while we wait?”

Data cocked his head, considering. “Other than what you have indicated so far, I am not certain what I normally ‘do.’”

“Well, you could try to paint something, or play.” Tasha glanced around. “I suppose we could go to the holodeck. There are some programs you like to run.”

“I hope I am not interfering with your work.”

Tasha grinned. “Today, you are my work.” She shrugged. “I’ve got some reports to go over, but nothing that won’t keep until tomorrow. I’m supposed to keep you out of trouble. Wouldn’t be good for morale if the second officer was wandering around without his memory, now would it?”

“That would seem a reasonable conclusion.” Data stood, wandering over to the shelving unit again, his fingers plucking delicately at the strings of the violin, tiny vibrations so quite Tasha couldn’t hear them. She bet Data could. After a moment, he picked up the instrument fully, settling it under his chin. He picked up the bow, and then paused, bringing both bow and instrument down again. He looked at her. “I do not know what to play.”

“You’ve got a lot of songs stored in your databanks, don’t you? Just pick one.”

Data nodded affirmative, and lifted the violin again. He paused, forehead creased, eyes unfocused, and then lowered the bow to the strings.

It was technically flawless, a crooning melody singing out. Tasha had heard him play it before, but she didn’t know the name, or what musician he was mimicking. She sat quietly, enraptured, as the haunting notes grew louder, and Data’s face tightened with concentration. It might have been technically flawless, but it was anything but clinical, and Tasha’s heart pounded in her chest as she listened, sucking in a sharp breath when the music stopped, suddenly aware she hadn’t been breathing. Data didn’t look at her right away. He stayed frozen, bow poised, for several long seconds.

“Data?” Tasha prompted when the silence stretched.

Data blinked, and looked at her. The violin fell to his side. “It felt…natural. As if I had done it before.”

“You have.”

He nodded. “Tasha…I would like to remember.”

Her heart broke. “You will, baby,” she promised. “Soon.”

She was half-asleep when Geordi called for them, ready to initiate the program. She sat up on the sofa, rubbing sleep from her eyes as she answered back that they’d be right there. The blanket that had been set over her at some point – not by her, so it must have been Data – pooled at her waist, and she looked over to where Data had been painting, the brush stilled the moment the commbadge beeped. “Come on,” she murmured to him. “Time to go.”

Engineering was quiet, Geordi waiting for them with the interface connector already in hand. He explained to Data in soft tones, “We’re going to have to hook you up first. Then I’m going to need to power you off while the circuits reintegrate. Is that okay?”

“It is acceptable.” Data took a seat, glancing back to Tasha. “Will you stay?”

She took his hand and squeezed it. “I’ll be right here.”

“It’ll take a couple hours,” Geordi cautioned. He opened up one of Data’s access panels, in the side of his head. “Here we go.” He inserted the connector gently, sliding it into place with a click and checking the computer. “Everything looks good so far.” He keyed something in. “Preparing to initiate program.” He gave Data a smile. “Everything’s going to be fine. When you wake up, you should be back to normal. Do you want to power yourself off, or should I do it?”

“I will do it,” Data said. He closed his eyes, twitched, and then went still. His grip went lax against Tasha’s, and she swallowed hard, squeezing his hand more tightly to make up for it.

Geordi rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. Why don’t I pull up a couple chairs? It’s going to be awhile.”

She nodded her thanks, and helped Geordi haul over a pair of stools, picking at PADDs of reports and duty rosters. When that ran out, she started up a list of upcoming assignments to complete. It was easier. It gave her something to focus on while Data sat, completely motionless beside her.

It seemed to take forever for the computer to beep, and Geordi stood, checking the monitor. He hit a few buttons, pursing his lips. “Alright. The program is finished. Everything should be back in the right place.”

“And if it’s not?”

Geordi seemed to get that she wasn’t asking because she doubted his skill. His expression tightened. “If it’s not, then we try something else until something sticks.” He punched in a final sequence, and then disconnected the wire and closed the panel, smoothing down Data’s hair over it. He reached around Data’s back, and gave Tasha one last look before he hooked his fingers into the button that would reactivate the android.

Data jerked minutely, and then blinked open his eyes. They flicked between Geordi and Tasha, and then he turned, looking around the room. Geordi squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Hey. How you doing, champ?”

Tasha held her breath as Data hesitated. His eyes unfocused, head tilting as he accessed, and then he looked back to Geordi. “My memory circuits are fully functional. I commend you as usual, Geordi, on your skill at correcting the issue.”

Geordi grinned. “Well, I couldn’t let my best friend go around without all our inside jokes, now could I?” He slapped Data lightly, affectionately. “I’ll let the captain know it worked.” He took a step away, hitting his commbadge to send to message, and Data looked to Tasha.

Her throat stuck. She didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Data did. His voice went low, and although he did not really smile, there was still affection in his eyes. “I am sorry for the distress I put you though, Tasha. I appreciate your consideration with me.”

“Of course, baby.”

“If it is alright with Geordi, I would like to go back to my quarters now. There is something I would like you to see.”

Tasha glanced towards Geordi, who nodded. “You’re good. We’ll run a full diagnostic tomorrow, just to be sure. In the meantime, I’ll start the report for the captain.”

“Thank you, Geordi,” Data told him. He took Tasha’s hand, and she followed him back towards the turbolift.

In his quarters, Data turned the easel so Tasha could see it, and she stared. He looked uncertain. “If you are uncomfortable, I can paint over it, but I felt compelled to capture your image. I was uncertain that the procedure would work, and that I would recall you. I wished to have this memory rendered, in case it failed. It seemed…appropriate.”

Tasha reached out, her fingertips nearly brushing the canvas. It was her, curled up on the sofa. Her face was lax with near-sleep, her arms tucked to her chest, the blanket up over her shoulder and spilling across the sofa. It was stylized, and her form was the only color on the canvas, the rest white, no background save for the sleek black line of the blanket falling over where the sofa should have been. It made her look like she was floating, cocooned. It was beautiful.

“You can keep this one,” she managed. She turned into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his chest. “It’s gorgeous, baby.”

“I am pleased you approve. It would have been disappointing if I were forced to destroy it.”

She laughed a little, rubbing her cheek against his chest. “So, you think it’s good?”

“I am pleased with the results. As you pointed out, perhaps I have been a little overly critical of my own work.”

She grinned, resting her chin against his chest as she looked up at him. “Then do I get to read your poetry now?”

Data didn’t blush, but he ought to have, given the embarrassment that bloomed on his face. “Not yet,” he said. “I do not believe I am quite ready for that.”

She pouted, and couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face when he leaned down to kiss it from her lips, slow and sweet and lingering. “I believe,” he murmured against her lips, hardly breaking the kiss to speak, “that you made me a promise for when I regained my memories.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Tasha nipped at his bottom lip encouragingly. “It would be impolite of me not to follow through.”

“I had similar sentiments,” Data agreed. He kissed her again, and Tasha laughed as he nudged her gently in the direction of the sofa, going willingly under his guidance. She carded her fingers through his hair, and there was nothing distant about his smile now. It was soft, and warm, and full of recognition.

Better still, it was full of love.


End file.
